


Bits and Pieces

by orphan_account



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Awkwardness, Chess, Erik is a Father, Father-Son Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 11:05:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8665210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Prompt: just something with peter and erik bonding! this could be a modern au or in-universe or whatever you like. i see both peter and erik as dark skinned, so please write/draw that in.Why not chess? Isn't that how most of Erik's heartfelt conversation happen? With chess?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bikenesmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bikenesmith/gifts).



The most awkward moment of Peter’s and Erik’s father-son relationship had not been telling Erik. It had not been asking Charles to teach him how to play chess so he could have something to bond over. It had been their first game.

Peter was not a very patient man, although he was a dedicated one. Given the right motivation, he could do anything. He could not, however, wait to do it. Learning chess had been a hard and difficult task, but he had managed to do it.

Their first game happened on a Sunday afternoon, in one of Charles’ numerous libraries.

Peter had taken the blacks, Erik the whites.

“You’ve asked Charles to teach you,” Erik noted after a few silent moves.

“Yeah, did he tell you?” Peter asked me.

“No, he didn’t. It’s obvious however. You started your game like he starts his.”

“I may have copied him, just a little.”

The game was over quickly. Peter started like Charles but he had not his level of skill. Erik wiped the floor with him. They set up a second game.

“Which one do you like most?” Peter asked him, because they weren’t making much progress by sitting here in silence.

“Which what?”

“Which piece?”

“No piece is better than the other. They are all useful in their own way.”

“Okay. Makes sense.”

The game continued in pure awkward silence.

“Sooooo… what do you do? Beside killing presidents and trying to destroy the Earth?”

Peter had intended it as a joke, but it had not been received as one. Erik stiffened and the silence went from awkward to icy. Ouch. 

“I hunt Nazis,” he deadpaned. 

“Is… is that a joke or do you…?”

Erik raised his arm and Peter could see a series of numbers tattooed. Peter gulped audibly. 

“Okay, so it’s not… it’s not okay a joke, okay,” he squeaked. Then, considering how this was not very manly, decided to play more casual. “I mean it’s cool, I can… I can totally imagine that,” he shrugged. “I am not that impressed – well I am, but still.”

“What about you? What do you do?”

“Well I, erm…”

Peter had not done many things one would be proud to tell their dad about. He had stolen lots of things, never finished high school and three weeks ago still lived in his mom’s basement.

“I… don’t do much. I’m…”

“Unemployed?” Erik suggested.

“Yes that. I am definitely that. Yeeep.”

“But what do you want to do?” Erik pressed on, having seemingly no mercy for his sweating son. 

“Well I guess I wanted to do stuff,” Peter said with all the confidence he could muster before admitting defeat. “Okay so basically I’m a looser. I dropped out of high school, got my mom into a shit-ton of problems because I’m kind of a kleptomaniac and keep stealing stuff and the cops come over and well…”

“I’m guessing super-speed helped a lot then,” Erik went for the diplomatic approach. “Checkmate.”

“Well yeah. It’s really fun. You have to do it in guarded places though, otherwise there’s no thrill.”

“I do remember your prowess against guards,” Erik nodded.

Was that the kind of conversation a kid usually had with his dad? Because it really didn’t sound like it. The tone was perfectly casual, but the subject seemed off. But then, what did Peter now about having conversations with paternal figures? All he had was his mom and his sister. His sister! Now that was a subject he could maybe elaborate safely on!

“I have a half-sister,” Peter told him out of the blue. He made a point to mention the “half”, otherwise Erik might have freaked out at the idea of having another kid. 

“Really? Is she like you?” Erik asked while reorganizing the set for the next game.

“A mutant? Nah. Or at least I don’t think so. I mean, she’s still young, she could be. Fourteen is young right?”

“It is. Most mutants develop their power at that age.”

“Did you?” Peter was curious.

Erik’s face hardened. 

“I had special circumstances.” Peter noticed he was rubbing his arm where the numbers were engraved. “Let’s keep that story for another time.”

“Okay, you call. Can I ask other questions instead?”

Peter did not know how the Professor did it. Professor Xavier always seemed so… at ease, with Erik. Unlike most people who were usually either screaming at him or walking on eggshells. Maybe it was because he was a telepath. But Peter was not. 

Erik (maybe someday he would call him dad, but not for now) made him nervous. He had heard so many things about him, in good (Thanks Charles, thanks Raven) and in bad (Thanks Hank, thanks Raven) that he didn’t quite know what to do with him, or what to expect.

He was distant, aloof. Like nothing could touch him. But when you got a bit closer, when you tried to interact with him, you suddenly had the impression of talking to a barrel of dynamite, ready to explode at any wrong move. 

“Ask away. If I don’t want to answer, I won’t. You don’t have to fear me.”

“Well you’re a bit scary,” Peter admitted with a grimace. 

What would Erik be willing to answer? Peter did know a bit through Charles already. He knew he shouldn’t talk about Erik’s mother, so that left out his childhood. He really didn’t want to know the details of nazi hunting, leading an evil mutant brotherhood or murdering people.

“The Prof told me you were from Germany, is that true?”

“Yes,” Erik nodded. “Partly. My father was from Germany, my mother was from Poland. I was born in East Germany, but we moved to Poland when I was three. I grew up there. We spoke German at home, but Polish outside.”

“So you can speak German, Polish and English?” Peter asked, impressed.

“Among other languages, yes. I can speak French, Spanish and Hebrew also.”

“Why Hebrew?” Peter wondered. “I mean, it doesn’t quite fit in with the others.”

“I’m Jewish.”

“Aaaah, that would explain it yes. Does that mean I’m Jewish?”

“No,” Erik chuckled, “it’s through the mother.”

“Kurt is German,” Peter noted.

“Nightcrawler?”

“Yes. He taught us bad words when Jubilee asked. Do you think you could teach me? German, I mean.”

“Why not?” Erik smiled. “At any rate, I think you would enjoy it more than chess. Checkmate.”


End file.
